More Than the Sun Loves The Moon
by EvieWhite
Summary: Cordelia gets drunk to try and drown her feelings for Misty Day in alcohol and a stranger. When Misty finds out, she is crushed and wants to go back to the swamp. Cordelia doesn't want her to go, but did Delia mess up beyond repair? This is a story about the struggle of self-doubt, forgiveness, and love. Tumblr prompt fulfillment. Reviews would be the greatest!


**Prompt: Can you do an angsty Foxxay thing? I always see Misty chasing after Cordelia but I want Cordelia to do something wrong.**

**AN: Well this fic kind of took on a life of its own so I hope it's what you were looking for. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own American Horror Story or any of its characters. Also, the song lyrics to "Big Machine" belong to Ryan Miller.**

**Cordelia's POV**

The tequila burns my throat as I toss it back. I won't be able to do this without alcohol impairing my judgment. The bar smells like sweat and liquor, and a mass of bodies grind together on the dance floor. I feel so out of place here with my plain white blouse and dorky looking glasses.

I don't go out much, but I figured that if I wanted a one night stand this would be the place to go. I don't really want a one night stand, but what I want I can't have. There's no way that Misty Day could ever love a woman like me.

She's so naturally talented and kind. I'm just a fucked up failure with mommy issues and mismatched eyes. No, she could never love me. So I tip back another shot of tequila to try and drown out the incessant thoughts of beautiful Misty and focus on forgetting her.

A tall man with sandy colored hair and dark brown eyes, who has been eyeing me for the past 15 minutes, is finally coming over to me. His voice is deep as he says, "So, what's your poison sweetheart?"

I hate the way he calls me sweetheart in an arrogant tone. He's perfect, just the kind of guy I'm looking for to make me feel like anyone but myself for the night.

"Why don't we go to my place and I'll tell you when we get there?" My voice is a bit slow from the alcohol, but it carries an alluring tone that I never possess when sober.

30 minutes later we are fumbling through the dark academy to my room, losing clothes quickly. I can smell beer and cigarettes on his breath as he kisses my neck. It doesn't feel right but it's enough to forget.

His hands are calloused and his movements are harsh as he slams me onto the bed. I don't mind the pain though; it actually feels good in a sick kind of way. He doesn't even look at my face when he flips me onto my stomach and spreads my legs.

There's nothing gentle about the way he fucks me, and when his body finally collapses next to mine, finished with me, I'm glad that it's over. At least my plan worked, I forgot Misty for most of the evening.

I don't deserve her. I don't deserve anything. Those are the last thoughts that race around my mind as sleep overtakes me.

xxxxxxx

Loud snoring wakes me from the beautiful blackness of sleep. For a second I'm very confused. Who is this stranger in bed with me and why is my head pounding? Then I remember the night before, enough alcohol to dissolve my brain and a man I never met before to take me away from reality. Shit, I don't even know his name.

Closing my eyes, I try to relax and compose myself. I'm hung-over, that's for sure, and between my legs is sore from the roughness of the sex.

I want him to leave, I want to be alone, but I don't know how to go about waking him up. Sighing, I just roll as far away from him as possible. He still smells like booze and cigarettes.

"Miss Cordelia, I was wondering if…"

The hinges of the door squeak open. Misty is standing there with her mouth hanging open in surprise and her face bright red. No, no, no, no, this can't be happening!

"Shit, I'm sorry. I shoulda knocked!" I pull the sheets over my exposed body, embarrassed and terribly ashamed. "I'm so sorry Miss Cordelia."

Something is wrong. Misty is more than just flustered and shocked, she looks upset. Her gorgeous ocean blue eyes are filled with tears and her bottom lip is quivering.

"Oh fuck!" The man in my bed is fully awake now and he quickly covers himself up too. Misty bolts from the room, closing the door frantically behind her.

Oh my god, what just happened? I still haven't been able to process it by the time that my one night stand is dressed and on his way out the door. With only a simple, "Bye" he's gone. If it wasn't for the stain her left on my heart you wouldn't even know that he was ever here.

It takes a while for me to pull myself together, but eventually I manage to shower and get dressed. After a few Advil dull the pain of my throbbing headache, I go to find Misty. I have no idea what to say once I find her, but I just need to talk to her.

I feel terrible about the whole situation. It makes me hate myself more than I did already, and I didn't think that was possible.

Misty's room is empty, and none of the other girls have seen her. I look all over the academy grounds until there's only one place left unchecked, the greenhouse. When Misty first came here we would spend hours just the two of us in the safety of the greenhouse.

She's the only other person I ever met who is comforted by rich earthy smells and beautiful plants like I am. I think that it was during one of those first hours that I fell in love with Misty Day.

Knocking lightly, I wait for an answer, but enter anyway after a silent minute. "Misty?" I don't see her right away, but I can hear sniffles coming from the back of the room. Tentatively, I walk closer and find Misty curled up with her knees to her chest and tears streaming down her cheeks. "Oh Misty."

I promptly fall to my knees beside her. When I reach out to try and hug her, Misty leans away out of my touch.

"Don't. Please leave me alone right now Miss Cordelia."

I don't know what to say. Misty refuses to make eye contact with me and hides her face in her hands. I knew she was upset, but not to this extent. "Misty… I'm so, so sorry."

I'm not exactly sure what I'm apologizing for. It's my body and I can do what I want with it, but I can't help feeling like I hurt Misty on a deep level. It kills me to see her so upset over something I did.

"Please go away. I can't do this."

"Do what?"

"Look at you. Be near you. I need you to leave me alone."

Those words hurt me more than anything in my life has ever hurt me before; even more than my father abandoning me and my mother's constant insults. Misty is more important to me than them.

She must sense how harsh I take her comment, so she places a hand on my knee. She's shaking terribly. "Just for a little bit."

I'd give her anything she asked of me, even if that means leaving her for now. I squeeze her hand gently, trying to be comforting, and get to my feet. "I'll be in my room if you want to talk, okay?"

Misty just nods and looks back down, away from me. My own eyes have become rimmed with tears as I walk out of the greenhouse. I can hear Misty sobbing hysterically from all the way down the hallway.

I fucked up. I should have just told her how I felt instead of hiding my feelings and sleeping with some stranger. My self-hatred got the best of me. My head is still pulsing from the ridiculous amount of alcohol I consumed, and my chest hurts too. The last thing I wanted was to hurt Misty. She deserves all of the happiness and good the world have to offer.

I sigh as I walk up the final steps to the second floor, planning to spend the rest of the day sulking and crying in bed. Then a tiny white envelope on the carpet outside my door catches my attention.

Carefully, I pick it up and examine it. Miss Cordelia is written across the front in charming, slightly crooked script. Misty must have dropped it while fleeing my room earlier. Sitting on my bed, I open the letter delicately. The same handwriting, Misty's, is scrawled over several pages.

_Dear Miss Cordelia,_

_ I aint never been good with words, but maybe I can find the right ones if I write them down on paper. Every time I see you I want to tell you these things, but I'm just too damn nervous. Something about you makes my palms get all sweaty and I end up forgetting what I planned on saying._

_So I guess what I'm trying to say now with this letter, is that I really love you. I love the way you admire nature and take good care of your plants. I love how kind you are to me and everybody else, even if they don't always deserve it. I love the way you look at me and the way you say my name like it's some kind of song. Mostly though, I just love you._

_I bet I'm making a fool of myself by writing this, but I needed to tell you how I feel. Do you feel the same? I sure hope you do._

_With all my love,_

_Misty Day_

My tears fall on the pages and make the ink run, so I have to dry my eyes quickly. Misty must have come to my room to give me this letter; that's why she's so upset.

I feel even worse than I already did, yet somehow also delighted. Misty loves me in the same way I love her. Well, I blew any chance I had with her this morning. She must hate me now. But I have to at least try to make it up to her.

xxxxxxx

It's almost dinner time and I'm still having trouble thinking of a way to apologize to Misty and somehow make things right between us. Myrtle suggested writing a heartfelt letter back, but I want to do something on a larger scale.

I hurt Misty is an unimaginable way. She was coming to confess her love for me only to find me in bed with another. Misty is the kind of person who wears her heart on her sleeve but is shy at the same time. It must have taken a tremendous amount of courage for her to write that letter. I ruined everything like usual.

I really have to stop thinking like that if I'm ever going to get over this pity party I've been throwing for myself. Running my fingers through my hair, I sigh and try to push away all the negative thoughts when a knock on my door gets my attention. "Who is it?"

"Misty." Her voice sounds small and broken. "Can I come in?"

My heart hammers in my chest from a mixture of nerves and excitement. "Of course!" I call back as I sit up straighter, trying to look well put together.

Misty looks remarkably disheveled, even for a swamp witch. Her eyes are puffy and red, her hair is a knotty mess, and her skin is paler than usual. I gesture for Misty to sit on the bed too, but she remains standing, anxiously toying at a stray string of her black skirt.

Her eyes stay trained on the ground as she begins. "I think…I think that I should go back to the swamp." Once the words leave her mouth my world seems to stop spinning. "Fiona killed the witch hunters so it's safe now, and I don't want to be supreme anyways. I miss my plants and my records. I miss the quiet of nature, and the peace. I'm going in the morning."

Biting her lip, she chances a glance up at me. I'm in shock; it's like every muscle in my body is frozen. When I do finally manage to speak, my voice is shaking uncontrollably.

"Misty, I know I hurt you, I know I messed up, and I am so incredibly sorry. I let my self-doubt and impulsiveness take over, without thinking of the consequences… I read your letter Misty. You must have dropped it this morning. But Misty, I feel the same way about you! I only hid my feelings because I was afraid. I truly am sorry."

The younger witch remains silent for a moment, then she looks directly at me. Her sapphire eyes pierce right through my soul. "My mama always said that that love is a verb, Miss Cordelia. Words alone can't prove that it's true, only actions. My mind is made up, I'm leaving tomorrow."

And with that Misty Day leaves my room for the second time today, closing the door behind her. But I am not crushed like I was the first time, quite the opposite actually. I'm renewed with determination.

Misty's words gave me an idea. I need to prove that I really do love her, and now I have a plan. Gathering all the supplies I'll need, I get to work on creating a master piece.

xxxxxxx

It's midnight. The full moon casts a beautiful glow across Miss Robichaux's and illuminates the surprise I have for Misty. I'm still nervous that she won't forgive me, but I'm also very excited.

Tiptoeing over to Misty's room, careful to avoid the creaky floor boards so the others don't wake up, I enter the room quietly. She looks like an angel all curled up under the covers snoring softly.

"Misty." I shake her shoulder slightly. "Misty, wake up."

Slowly the swamp witch opens her eyes, looking confused but not annoyed. "Is everythin' alright Miss Cordelia? It's real late."

"Everything's fine, I just need you to come with me for a minute. I have a surprise for you." I extend my arm to Misty who takes it cautiously. "You'll like this surprise, I promise."

Her hand is warm in mine as I lead her towards the backyard. Butterflies dance around in my stomach. "Close your eyes Misty, and no peeking."

Misty giggles easily and scrunches her eyes closed. She looks adorable. "What's goin' on, Miss Delia?"

"You'll see soon enough." She smiles brightly as we step, barefoot, out onto the grass. It feels amazing between my toes. I take a deep breath and survey the surprise one more time; it's perfect. "Okay, you can open now."

Once Misty opens her eyes she gasps in surprise. "Oh Miss Delia, this is beautiful!"

White Christmas lights are strung around the gazebo, blankets, pillows, and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate lay in the center, and an old guitar is propped up against the bench. I needed to do something romantic, something sweet and thoughtful. There's nothing Misty loves more than being outside with music.

"You really think so?'

Misty nods and throws her arms around my neck, pulling me into a tight hug. I melt into her embrace but it ends much too quickly when Misty tugs over to the gazebo and sits down, outing a blanket around her shoulders. For a June night, it is rather cold.

"This is amazin'. Nobody ever did nothing like this for me before."

"There's one more thing." I sit on the bench across from the beautiful blonde witch and pick up my guitar. Misty's hair seems to glow in the moonlight and her eyes are sparkling. She is enchanting.

When I was young, Myrtle insisted that learning an instrument would make me cultured; so I learned guitar. I dragged this ancient relic from my childhood at the academy out of the attic for Misty. I'm a bit rusty, but she loves music and I love her.

"This one's for you sweet Misty." With shaking hands I begin to strum the guitar and sing softly:

"Stand straight, fall back in line. Comb your hair, get to work on time. Everyone, in the big machine Tries to break your heart, and pull you underneath.

Maybe I'm wrong and all that you get is what you see, But maybe I'm right, and there's something out there to believe.

Everybody's talking in their sleep. They push a lot of air around, but don't say much of anything. Except when they're laughing, like some ghosts under a sheet. Everybody's talking in their sleep."

Misty's beautiful ocean eyes are brimming with tears. So are mine as I gaze at her, and continue to sing.

"Watch out, get back in line. They trip you up, it happens every time. Weighed down, it's just a big machine. That could break apart, like anything.

Maybe I'm wrong and all that you get is what you see, But maybe I'm right, and there's something out there to believe.

Everybody's talking in their sleep. They push a lot of air around, but don't say much of anything. Except when they're laughing, like some ghosts under a sheet. Everybody's talking in their sleep."

The last notes ring through the air and then leave us in a comfortable stillness, just enjoying each other's presence. "I'm sorry Misty." I say after a few moments. "I really do love you." I sink to the ground beside her and take both her hands in mine. "Only you. I love only you."

The smile she gives me is radiantly beautiful. She runs her thumb over my palm. "I know Miss Cordelia. I love you too; more than the sun loves the moon, and the stars love the midnight sky."

_**Fin. **_


End file.
